


Tainted

by fandramatics



Series: Hypothesis [10]
Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Miscarriage, Period Sex, Sad, sad sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandramatics/pseuds/fandramatics
Summary: Agatha saw red and black.Blood.
Relationships: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Series: Hypothesis [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713049
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Tainted

Water hit the tiles, it whipped at her back and head, but she wouldn’t move. Perhaps she didn’t even breathe. All her mind registered was red and black. Black spots on the white floor surrounded by the paling red of her blood as the water carried down the drain, along with hopes she didn’t know she had, expectations she had failed to address.

Blood.

Her fingers were colder than the wall where she searched for support.

“Agatha,” his voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. The sound made her frown as she glanced that way. Who was it? “Agatha, I can smell it, open the door.”

She shook her head, no. Lowered her gaze to her body. Zoe’s body. To the blood.

She couldn’t have been pregnant, could she? It had been too early, right? It usually didn’t take in the first try.

Visions passed her mind and she shot her eyes closed.

Except it hadn’t been the first time, nor the second. They had been trying, a lot.

“Agatha!”

She faced the door, he could have torn it apart, he didn’t need permission to come in.

Maybe she should let him in, let him see the blood, lose whatever control the beast had, kill her in the spot.

Let him in, let him in, let him in, let him in, let him in, let him in, let him in.

He was the father, she should let him in, let him in. Let him see the blood, let him lose it, let him kill her, that was what she deserved for consorting with the Devil.

Consorting with the Devil, yes. Had she not come for him? Had she not surrendered to his touch? Accepted him in her body as if it was nothing? 

Wasn’t she supposed to be a nun? Not that she ever was a good one.

“Agatha, open the door.”

Yes, open it. Open it.

The shower went silent. Her feet wet the floor, her hair dripped everywhere. She had blood dripping too.

She swung the door open, met his eyes. Saw his eyes become red, his fangs grow. He searched her form. Found the trail on the floor.

His hands trembled before they laid on her cheek and pulled her close. Their lips met and she felt the familiar burning in her lips, pulled away.

“Don’t,” she glared at him, tilted her head, exposed her neck, “I want to feel it.”

The Count took her in his arms, shaking, contained her struggles within the cage of his arms. Laid her in the bed.

“You’ll stain the sheets!” she stormed, he held her feet before she could escape.

Agatha kicked at him, clawed her at the fabric to get away, but he wouldn’t let her. She growled tried another time to kick him only to get her other feet trapped.

“Get it over with! Kill me! Why must you make a scene of everything! Zoe told you it wouldn’t work! We never stood a chance! Let me go, Count Dracula!”

“This isn’t your decision to make,” he said with a sigh.

“Spare me the sympathy, you don’t care about poor Zoe! You don’t care! Why don’t you just get over with it?! You  _ lul _ !”

He pulled her hard, stopped only when they were at eye level, “Hit me.”

She frowned.

“Like you mean it, hit me,” he repeated, “Come on, you spat blood on my face once, you can hit me, Would you prefer to kick? Hit me, Agatha.” he grabbed her jaw, “Do it. Hit me. Hit me!”

“Shut up!” she pushed him.

“Do it, Agatha!”

“Curse you!” she tried to get away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“You can do better than that! Come on! I took everything from you!”

“Should have staked you when I had the chance!” another push.

“Come on, I know you’re holding back.”

“Filthy pig, you knew I couldn’t do it!” a punch on his chest.

“Yes, I wanted you on it. Well, come on! Won’t you say it? Say you liked it, Agatha!”

Another hit, “Damned bastard!”

“You liked it, I felt everything!”

“You didn’t have the right!”

“The right to what? Say it!”

She missed a hit because of her blurred vision, “My baby! She was mine!”

He took her hand, kissed her knuckles.

“Stop it,” she squirmed under him, tears escaping her.

The Count pecked her cheek, his teeth brushed her flesh.

“Do it. Have your fill, end this.”

“No.”

“Do it!”

He whipped another tear away.

“Don’t do this,” she whined, “Count Dracula, stop it!”

The vampire kissed her chin.

“Stop it, I’m not your wife.”

A peck on her forehead, “You’re beautiful, Agatha.”

“You can’t fix this.”

“No, I can’t, but it doesn’t have to hurt so much.”

She whined, “Leave me be.”

“She was mine too.”

Van Helsing shifted, avoided his eyes, her own wet again.

“You’re perfect,” he kissed her cheek, “Beautiful.”

“How could you know?” her voice cracked.

“I don’t, I trust you.”

“There was no way to know, it was too early.”

“You carried her, you knew her.”

She closed her eyes, the tightness on her chest wouldn’t disappear. “Make it go away.”

Dracula kissed her lips, “Are you sure?”

“Please.”

He knelt, lowered himself, kissed her thigh.

“Might have been nothing,” she said.

“Did you feel it?”

“No.”

A kiss higher up her leg, he cleaned the blood with his finger, took it in his mouth.

“Anything?”

“Just you.”

“Would you lie to me?”

He met her eyes, “You asked me to take the pain away, I need you to let me do it.”

“Would you lie to me?” she pressed.

“Yes.”

Agatha nodded, turned away, “Why can’t I hate you?”

“I will give you the opiate if you don’t stop that.”

“You wouldn’t” she faced him.

“Neither would I leave you in pain.”

“You can’t cure this.”

“I can give you time.”

She went silent.

“Don’t fight it,” he said before tasting her core, sweet blood slipping into his mouth, only a hint of its usual metallic taste left. Her body shifted and he caught her, kept working as she whined and cried out. He claimed every single drop.

Agatha surrendered, closed her eyes, arched on the bed, let her fingers pull at his hair, pull him up, let him kiss her once, twice, three times, as many more as he demanded her mouth. Touched his sides, pulled him close, wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Agatha.”

“Please.”

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“I want it. Please,” she kissed him, stole his conviction, took advantage of the look in his eyes. He wouldn’t deny her anything, not when she touched him like that, not when she looked so wounded, “Fuck me, Count.”

He groaned, complied, bid his time.

She lost count of their kisses, ignored her control, muttered in Dutch what she wouldn’t dare to let him understand.

Dracula had her, but she knew she had just stolen a piece of him he’d never have back. She consumed him, burned him to ashes. Killing him would have shown more mercy.

Yet, when he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t fight it, held him back.

Agatha whispered something in his ear.

He chuckled without humor, “No,” kissed her head, “you don’t.”

“You can’t know”

“I do know. You’re in pain, wouldn’t have said that otherwise.”

She swallowed.

“Sleep, Agatha.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm mean and evil. Hope you suffered.


End file.
